Voldemort in Wonderland
by PoofyFlowerPlume
Summary: Voldemort finds himself in a different, mysterious world after accidentally miscasting a spell. (Crackfic)


_It's Off To Wonderland We Go_

A misutter of words and a straying thought. That's all it took to cast him away. A back-fired explosion of bright green light, and then falling through the darkened portal conjured up by his miscast spell.

And down, down, down he was falling, his black robes flying up behind him. Eyes wide and pigment-less limbs flailing. If he had hair, it would fly up too.

The portal gave way to a hole, lanterns growing out from roots becoming the primary light-source as all natural brightness disappeared far above him, becoming as small as the moon is far. Merely a bright circle to look up to.

He tried his best to cast a spell to slow the speed of the landing. The ground was reaching close. but his magic would not work. Instead, his wand shattered, and from it's remnants a group of giant white butterflies came up and caught him on their wings, stopping his imminent demise.

When they landed and placed him on the soft earth, Voldemort coughed as their dust scattered all over him. He whispered it off his face and out of his eyes, but when he looked down, his robes, black as night and death, had turned a rich and silken blue matching that of the open sky.

He got up unsteadily, and felt flowing blonde hair like that of Lucius Malfoy touching past his shoulders. The locks felt soft to his finger's touch.

When the butterflies flew off, he just sat there, puzzled and lost on what to do. He felt a deep fear and despair that he may never return to the wizarding world, that he may never get to kill Harry Potter. He would not accept that.

So began his journey to try and find a way back to his home dimension. He got up from his sitting place on the ground, smoothed his new attire, and got up to wander about.

Along the caves walls rested mushrooms of all shapes and sizes, but the further he roamed down, the more he saw wood paneling for walls instead of dirt. Soon he found himself within a room with many doors. A tiny door was in the very center.

He look around with wide eyes until he came across a giant potions vial. It had a tag that said: _Drink me. _

So he did just that, smashing the large vial for all the contents to pour out and cupped it in his bony hands to drink. As a result it made him very small.

In an attempt to get away from the large flood, he went through the tiny door, making way to the other side, but a rather large wave to his tiny size crashed his head into the wall, successfully knocking him out.

A while later, he awoke awash a shore, his cheek pressed in the sand as someone was coating him in something welt. "What are you doing!" he cried upon awakening.

"Why, we are painting the lovely rose pink, aren't we George?" It was two twins, red-headed with matching mischievous grins. "Yes indeed, we are Fred."

"How dare you do such a thing!" He hissed in an attempt to be menacing.

One of the twins stepped forward, slapping the brush dipped in pink paint across his cheek. "Your alabaster skin makes for the finest rose canvas."

"Who are you!"

The twins glanced at each other, before doing a little jig together. "Why, we are Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum, but we preferred to be called our childhood nicknames, Fred and George."

He frowned at them, wiping the pink paint off his face.

"Say, do you want to hear the story of the convict and the hippogriff?"

"Or buy an item for a prank?"

Voldemort gathered up his now painted-pink robes and ran away from them deep into the forest.

It's darkness scared him, but even more so did the glowing set of eyes and teeth in the dark. "A soul lost in the forest I see." There was a soft snap of fingers and it apparated in front of him, revealing the body of a house elf.

"Dobby knows you need direction."

Voldemort curled his lip in disgust. "House elf, tell me where I should go."

"Oh but Dobby cannot do that."

"Why!" he snapped forcefully, grabbing for the creature, but it had already apparated into a tree.

"Because the lost soul must remain lost, or Dobby will disappear forever."

"You're mad!" Voldemort protested, but the house elf was already gone.

He continued to trek through the forest, the trees going from big to small, tall to wide, until he reached a strange blue mushroom in the center of a field. He was feeling rather hungry, and decided to climb up it to get a better view of the surroundings.

What he saw at the top shocked him. Why, it was Severus Snape, guzzling down potions. "Oh." The potions master hiccuped, glazed eyes wide in recognition as colored gas came out on his breath. "I'd ask "Who are you?", but I cannot, because you already are You Know Who, and that is He Who Must Not be Named. He chuckled to himself long after between coughing fits, and it didn't fit his face or his voice at all.

"Tell me where I must go to get out of this place!" He demanded.

Snape glared at him. "You do notice I am currently in the middle of something."

"Yes, but I need to know."

Snape clenched his teeth, peeing off some pieces from the underside of the mushroom. "I insist you troublesome ingrate take these mushrooms and be on with it, no complaints."

Voldemort took them within his hands. "I don't see how this will help me." He protested, however, he was feeling the bite of hunger, and decided to indulge himself the pieces to take off it's edge. He walked past the potions master and took a few bites, crying out when he grew large in size.

He ripped through his pink-painted robes, which left him exposed. He grabbed tree branches and wove them together into a wicker kilt to cover himself.

He kept walking, to come across a road. Suddenly a girl, one of Harry Potter's friends, who wore a shiny time-turner around her neck went barreling past. "I'm late! I"m late! To create a very important fate!"

He ran after her, waving his arms to get her attention. "Hey!" He shouted, and chased her all the way to a library. On the window cell of it's second floor was a box of cookies that said: _Eat me_. He quickly grabbed one with two fingers, popping it in his mouth.

Then small he shrank as a result, leaving behind his wicker kilt. Voldemort tumbled forward into the building and shook his head. He rubbed his eyes, head rather dizzy from the transformation.

"Oh Goodness!" He looked up to see the girl cry, and immediately curled up to cover himself. A gray robe was thrown over his body. "The library is no place for exhibitionists! Cover up!" She threw up her hands and made way through the vast maze of bookcases.

Voldemort departed out of the building knowing he would get no help there, and continued along the path unto he reached a rather odd garden party.

His breath froze at just who he saw. It was that wretched Albus Dumbledore, wearing the Sorting Hat atop his head, and next to him was none other than Harry Potter. They laughed and drank tea as they chatted.

It was unexplainable. How was such a thing possible? how was any of this possible?

The wild anger within him surged up and he felt himself lunging at the boy with an extended fist, but a strong strike from the old man's wand sent him spiraling back.

"Why what a rude guest we have to our party, Harry." Dumbledore said, aghast.

"Yes, is was rather rude." The boy agreed, staring at him dumbfounded with green eyes in shock.

Voldemort got to his feet and backed up, but he felt someone behind him usher him forward to one of the party's seats. He looked back and why, it was Pettigrew, but with large rat-ears in place of his own, and a twitchy nose with whiskers.

He recoiled with a yelp, nearly out of the seat. Pettigrew just frowned at him.

"Oh the Dormouse, it's good to see you have arrived, and just in time too! Come sit, come sit." Dumbledore greeted amiably. Pettigrew smiled, it rat like as ever, more so now with an actual rat's mouth, and took the seat right next to him.

"So what tea do we have this time, dear Hatter?" Pettigrew asked. The old man smiled. "Lemon drop tea." The rat-like man twitched his nose appreciatively. "Ah, how lovely."

"So Dormouse, how have you been?" The Sorting Hat inquired. "Harry's been doing nice. Got into Gryffindor!"

"Good, yes, been good." He looked to Voldemort, sitting there quiet and uncomfortable. "And how are you?"

Voldemort got up. "I have to go."

"You do not wish to stay for tea?" Harry asked.

"No!" Voldemort cried, and got up quickly running far away.

He soon reached a great stone wall, and hopped it, landing on the other side. It scared two dementors, who in turn scared the bones out of him. "Intruder, intruder!" One of them hissed, and they wrapped their bony hands around his wrists, dually yanking him towards a large castle painted pink.

He struggled to protest, even tried biting at their hands, but it was futile, and he was dragged into the castle before a throne. Upon it was Dolores Umbridge, wearing a long, dark pink dress, and a pale pink boa. A white-gold crown rested atop her head.

"This is the intruder?" She asked the dementors with a haughty hair and narcissism. The one on his right dipped it's head.

"Well, if this was normal circumstance I would order "Off with his Head" however I do find him rather attractive so he shall have a different fate."

"What?" The dementor gasped, but it came out as a suffocated whisper.

"We shall be married before the sun is high!" Umbridge decided. Voldemort felt him stomach turn at the thought of marriage to such a person, but was pleased he would not be killed.

Just as the queen ordered they were married in the morning, Umbridge dressed in pale pink, along with the rest of the kingdom, and Voldemort the only thing in blue. They kissed to seal the deal.

Later, when it came to be afternoon, there was a party in the court yard. Many of the dementors were celebrating and dancing. There was a jovial air with rich music. When he looked around, all the people he had met along his journey had been invited. He spotted Harry within the crowd and the boy smiled pleasantly at him.

When all the celebration was done, they retired to their room and Umbridge settled tiredly under the pink sheets to sleep while he gazed out the window mournfully. "What is it my love?" She asked and sat up, upon awakening after a while to find him still at the window.

"I want nothing more than to return to my own world." He spoke with heavy sadness.

She frowned, looking hurt. "Don't you like it here?"

He turned from the window and cupped her cheek to comfort her, his eyes soft. Among the number of hours he had spent with her, she had charmed him, and he had fallen in love. "Of course I do, but that is where I belong. I have things I must do. Places I must conquer."

Her eyes widened. "You don't know?"

Alarm rose up within him. "Don't know what?"

"This is the place you came to after you died. If you try to be revived, this world with vanish.

"I'm dead?" Voldemort gasped.

"You were," Umbridge informed. "But now you are a citizen of Wonderland. So enjoy your life here. It's better than the fate you would have if you had survived up there."

"But how? I thought I had just miscast a spell!" He cried.

"No, the killing curse was not miscast, but backfired." She rubbed his arm to comfort him. Tears leaked from Voldemort's eyes and he cried in her arms.

He spent many happy years in Wonderland after. Umbridge and him lived in joy ruling as tyrannical, totalitarian dictators over the land together. They even had a child, Tom the second, whom they hoped would rule in their place someday.

His son grew into a fine man, but after influence from Harry's child, Albus-Severus, he became a pacifist and ran away to elope with some scholar girl named Rose.

It was a time of great sadness, but the only time of sadness for there was none in his life after. He died after to be very old beside his wife.

_The End_


End file.
